“She was elusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, the flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to a cork board like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew.”
-Jerry Spinelli, Stargirl

December 2, 2013

Sentimentality

I feel like this semester has been all about sentimentality.

One of my dearest friends, Claire, is getting married in July. I was honored to be asked to be a bridesmaid. She was working on her wedding website and in her description of us (her and I) she said that our relationship could be summed up with the phrase "heavy on the life."

Martha and Claire poke fun at me regularly about my deep and open emotions. Somehow, I've always been this way, but it wasn't until this semester that I was absolutely, acutely aware of it. I feel everything. I have written before about my empathy with May in Sue Monk Kidd's "Secret Life of Bees" - she is touched by just about everything, carrying the weight of the world.

In my Jane Austen class, we talked for a few classes about "sensibility," comparing different interpretations of the word from naivety to intellect. In Austen's era, an awareness, a deep and melancholic appreciation for the world and it's complexities, was a sign of insight and intelligence. I liked that definition. It corresponded well with my newfound appreciation for my gift of feeling.

I do live with my heart on my sleeve, but that's not necessarily bad. It makes me vulnerable, but it also makes me sure that I give and share all I have. I have also found that living in such a way encourages me to embrace joy and accept the overwhelming feeling of contentment and appreciation that I find fills me frequently. My cup runneth over!